The Security Blanket Returns

Last Sunday was a nice break from the cold, but high winds and cold temps have combined to make this week another mostly miserable week for running. Even so we did manage a couple 5Ks, though I'm back to wearing my security blanket sweatshirt. It's been a very cold, deep snow winter and I'm ready for it to end. I want to run the March Madness 5K in Gypsy Hill Park in a couple weeks and, with the running I've been doing, I fear it truly will be a run instead of a race.

Train to race or race to train -- that was the question raised in a Running Journal article this week. I think I am primarily a train to race person; I want to train hard so that I can race well. Others, like my running partner Butch, race to train. He uses races as speed work. If I was more like him, I'd be less stressed about the upcoming March Madness 5K. Instead I am stressed for fear I won't run well instead of being excited about an opportunity for a 5K training run.

Spring? January Thaw in February?

Has spring sprung? Or are we just getting a January thaw very late in the year? Whichever it is, after today's run, I found myself mesmerized by the tiny stream flowing from beneath a mound of snow and across the entrance of the apartment parking lot. Moving water. Tiny bubbles of ice crystals floating on top. Visibly smaller mounds of snow turned into weird-shaped sculptures depending on how the sun has hit the mounds. Sun on my exposed face as I ran without my face mask or my sweatshirt, sans security blanket.

Earlier, even though weather.com said the temperature would be in the mid-40s today, I still dressed for my run in that sweatshirt placed over a cotton tee over technical long sleeved tee. And I wore wind pants over running tights. When Butch came to the door dressed in shorts and cotton tee, I knew I was overdressed. But I've been wearing that sweatshirt for so long.

"I don't know what to do," I said. "Do I need my sweatshirt?"

I stepped outside. The sun felt warm, but the breeze was just a bit biting. I took a deep breath, summoned up a bit of courage, pulled off my security blanket against the cold and headed out. Surprisingly, after three weeks of ice-dancing, two-mile hill runs, and snow shoveling in record cold, I still felt strong and finished today's 5K only 30 seconds shy of this year's course record. Obviously I have lost a little of the gain I had made earlier this winter, but not nearly so much as I had feared. Anything really has proven better than nothing. Nonetheless I am itching for some speed work and some long runs in good weather.

Even Water Doesn't Always Run Downhill

There is still no safe place to run around Broadway. Sidewalks aren't shoveled out. Shoulders are buried in mounds of snow. But, finally, the elementary school parking lot was almost bare on Friday, so we ran around it for a time period equal to at least two miles (we allowed 12 minutes per mile because of all the turns and a couple icy patches just to be sure we got in a full two miles).

And then we ice-danced our way back to my apartment where we found this proof that even water doesn't always run downhill! The "uphill effort" of running during temps in the single digits and teens for an unusually long period of time, and during the highest snowfall since 1996, has been really rough. Were it not for Butch, my running buddy, I'm sure I'd have given up trying. Besides running, I've also had cardiovascular workouts through shoveling snow and jumping rope. I hope that this winter's "hill workout" is better than nothing and that the benefits will appear come spring.

One Mile of Ice Intervals and Stride Outs

Streets are slippery in spots and mostly snow covered after just an hour of snow (on top of the 20+ inches we got over the weekend). If we were really dedicated, we'd have run in place, I suppose. Instead we opted to run hard up the hills, do stride-outs on the only small piece of parking lot in front of the elementary school that was not icy, and dance over the icy patches. We did this for 15 minutes and called it a mile.
The chunks of ice that have fallen from the roof and toppled the shrub in front of my apartment.
The maze of parking spots and walk ways.

No Run Today

There's a second car in the front of this photo. . .all you can see of it is three spots of teal.
My car is nearly out. Two neighbors helped shovel.
As you can see the the snow is up to my back side, and the shoveled snow even higher.